


No Crossroads Deal

by deanthesword, MillyMatty



Series: The Immortal and the Hunter [1]
Category: Forever (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Dean did not break in Hell, F/M, M/M, No Apocalypse, Out of Character, Pre-Season/Series 01, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, Universe Alteration, please suggest tag if I have forgotten one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3191960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanthesword/pseuds/deanthesword, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MillyMatty/pseuds/MillyMatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry Morgan is cornered in an alley. This is the start of a strange relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Henry Morgan

**Author's Note:**

> The setting is mostly pre-Forever (season 1).  
> Season 4 for Supernatural, but Dean did not break in Hell so the Apocalypse was not jump-started.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Forever or Supernatural.

“Don’t move!” a gruff voice sounded from behind Henry Morgan and he could easily hear the click of the gun which was most likely pointed towards his head. He steeled himself and stood completely still. If this was a thief, he did not really carry valuable stuff around… maybe the pocket watch, but no pocket thief would look at it and think of it as valuable. “Turn slowly.”

Henry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again he did what the man asked him to.

The man that stood before him was not what he had expected. He was handsome and dressed in a black suit. Well the suit looked cheap, and Henry could just with one look in the man’s eyes tell that he was in constant pain, although the grip on the gun was steady indicating years of training.

“What can I do for you?” Henry asked and tried to seem chipper and careless even if there was a gun pointed at him.  Why had he chosen to take the shortcut through this alley today of all days?

The man before him had a focused expression on his face and did not seem to care that he did not seem scared. “What did the demon offer you for your soul?” this man was obviously not one for small talk, and probably delusional.

“There’s no such thing as demons.” He said, and the man sighed, and lowered his gun.

“How did you become immortal?” the man asked, and Henry froze. How did this man know? He had been careful, really careful.

“If you are looking for a way to prolong your life, I am not the person to ask. I am just a medical examiner.” He chose to act confused, but he could immediately see that it did not work as the man raised a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. The man was tired, but he still transmitted a dangerous vibe.

“You know exactly what I mean. You were born September 19, 1779, and were considered lost at sea after a storm in 1814. You died for the first time that night didn’t you? Thrown at sea.” Henry was speechless, he and Abe needed to uproot their life all over again.

“I… Yes.” No reason to lie anymore. The man squared his shoulders but did not raise the gun again.

“Ah…” the man seemed to think while he thoroughly examined him with his eyes. “Other than the not dying part, you’re completely human? Do you mind if I check?”

“What? How?” Henry’s mind went through all the things the asylum had tried on him back in the days. Exorcism had been one of them and had not been exciting. He was brought out of his thoughts when something wet was splashed in his face. He spluttered and looked wide eyed at the man.

“Holy water.” The man explained and Henry could see amusement deep in his eyes. He reached down to his left ankle and fished out a knife. He dragged up his own sleeve and before Henry could protest, cut himself. He watched the man study him, before the man handed the knife to him.

“What do you want me to do with this?” the man pointed towards his arm, and Henry closed his eyes briefly. Slowly he rolled up his sleeve and did what the man did.

“Yep, totally human.” The man mumbled while he picked the knife out of Henry’s hand and pocketed it again. When he had put the weapons away he straightened up and looked sheepishly at him. “Sorry about that.” He reached out a hand. “Dean Winchester.”

Henry could not say he was not confused but he still took the man, Dean Winchester’s, hand. “Henry Morgan, but I guess you already knew that.”

 


	2. Dean Winchester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The setting is mostly pre-Forever (season 1).  
> Season 4 for Supernatural, but Dean did not break in Hell so the Apocalypse was not jump-started.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Forever or Supernatural.

“Don’t move!” Dean let the gun click soundly and pointed it at Henry Morgan’s head. He could clearly see the man freeze at his words and contemplating whether he was a thief or not. “Turn slowly.”

Dean could hear Henry Morgan take a deep breath before he did what Dean had asked him too. Dean had spent quite some time watching the man, getting used to his routines and the irregularities. If Henry Morgan was going to work because of a case he would want to hurry so he would take the shortcut through the alley. He usually took the long way, because, as Dean had found out, he liked to walk.

Henry Morgan didn’t hide the fact that he scrutinized Dean’s appearance. Dean noted that he eyed the suit wearily and Dean sighed on the inside. Sometimes he wished that he was brought up in a normal apple pie home. That he had real education, a real job which made honest money. There were times, although he would never admit this to Sam, where he wished he had been adopted into another family and not dragged along and raised as a soldier. He envied Sam, because Sam didn’t know what he lost. He knew that they had a mom, and, because of pictures, knew what she looked like, but he never knew her. Dean might be harsh, but that was the goddamned truth. One cannot miss what one have never known.

“What can I do for you?” Henry Morgan’s accented voice broke him out of his thoughts, his voice chipper. Dean wanted to scoff, the tense shoulders were a dead giveaway and the smile was strained. He was clearly wishing he had taken the long way today.

He had to focus. Henry Morgan was immortal, and he had to make sure that he had not sold his soul or made any deals for his immortality. There was a big chance that that wasn’t the case though, okay, so Dean sort of knew it wasn’t the case, but better safe than sorry. It could easily have been a god or goddess who had taken pity on Henry when he was thrown at sea, and demons usually would have taken the soul after ten years no matter what, and let him live without a soul. “What did the demon offer you for your soul?” as he said it he could see confusion form on the man’s face, and immediately ruled out demon deals.

 “There’s no such thing as demons.” Henry Morgan said, and Dean sighed, and lowered his gun.

“How did you become immortal?” Dean asked, and he could see the questions bounce around in Henry Morgan’s head as he froze.

“If you are looking for a way to prolong your life, I am not the person to ask. I am just a medical examiner.” Henry Morgan acted confused and Dean was already tired, he unconsciously raised a hand to rub the bridge of his nose.

“You know exactly what I mean.” Dean searched his memory. “You were born September 19, 1779, and you were considered lost at sea after a storm in 1814.” While he talked Dean could see that Henry Morgan looked both lost and speechless. “You died for the first time that night didn’t you? Thrown at sea.”

“I…” Henry Morgan only hesitated a few seconds. “Yes.” So there was the answer, Dean squared his shoulders but kept his gun down.

“Ah…” So this might be more in the god-theory alley. The man clearly spoke like a sophisticated man, and that accent, was British… Dean was no language expert, but he knew how to put two and two together. Henry Morgan kept his old roots, kind of. “Other than the not dying part, you’re completely human? Do you mind if I check?”

“What? How?” Dean could see that the man’s mind immediately went to some dark places, and Dean didn’t have to imagine what he could be imagining. Hell, after 40 years in Hell he had probably been through all sorts of old school asylum torture techniques. Well, better to get it over with. He grabbed the flask of holy water and threw some at the man. He nearly laughed at the man when he spluttered, but he reined it in.

“Holy water.” Dean offered as an explanation and bent down to fish up the knife bound to his left ankle. He rolled up his sleeve and while he carefully studied Henry Morgan’s reactions, cut himself. So bloodsucker were ruled out, not that he really expected anything to happen with any of the tests. Let’s see if he were a shapeshifter or a werewolf… or anything that reacted to silver. He handed the knife over.

“What do you want me to do with this?” Dean simply pointed towards his arm, and he could see Henry close his eyes briefly. He watched closely as Henry Morgan rolled up his sleeve and finally cut his arm.

“Yep” as he suspected “totally human.” Dean mumbled and picked the knife out of Henry Morgan’s hand, before putting it back where it belonged. While he was at it he put his gun away too, simply lifting the back of his shirt and putting it down the back of his pants. He shrugged a bit before he straightened up and looked sheepishly at the man he had just assaulted… well, it could have been worse. “Sorry about that.” He reached out a hand. “Dean Winchester.”

Henry Morgan stared at him for a few seconds before he finally took Dean’s hand. “Henry Morgan, but I guess you already knew that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we don't get to know Sam's location yet. (Sam is Dean's brother for those of you that haven't seen Supernatural)  
> And on another note, I have no idea what to call this series. I mean "The Immortal and the Hunter" really doesn't sound right to me.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading!


	3. Saved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean recalls the first time he met Henry Morgan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The setting is mostly pre-Forever (season 1), but I will use stuff included in the show.  
> Season 4 for Supernatural, but Dean did not break in Hell so the Apocalypse was not jump-started.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Forever or Supernatural.
> 
> Okay, just so things are clear, this is set at the end of 2008.

They stood still for a few seconds before Dean suddenly remembered that Henry Morgan needed to go to work. “You know as great as it was speaking to you. You have a job to reach, and I am not going to make you later than you already are.” Henry Morgan looked startled and about to protest, so Dean quickly added. “I’ll wait for you at your son’s antique shop, if that’s alright with you?” Henry Morgan still didn’t look convinced. “I’m not going to harm Abraham, I swear. I’m going to explain why and how I know what I know to you then.” Finally Henry Morgan nodded and started walking to work.

Dean sighed when the man rounded a corner in the alley and shortly closed his eyes. He felt sort of giddy, not that he would admit that to anyone. He could still remember the first time he had seen Henry Morgan, how could he not, the man saved his life.

 – _flashback_ –

It was on one of John’s jobs, Dean wasn’t sure where they were, but for once the motel was in the town and not outside it. Once John had driven off to who knows where, Dean made sure Sammy was comfortably sat in front of the TV before he snuck out. He knew that John wouldn’t like it one bit if something happened to Sammy, but Dean was starting to get stir-crazy staring at walls and listening to Looney Tunes, or whatever it was Sammy was watching. He needed space. He needed to breathe.

 He had literally just walked five feet away from their motel door when someone grabbed him from behind and snuck a hand over his mouth. He immediately put his teeth into the hand over his mouth, but his captor remained silent. When he got no reaction, he knew, no matter what he did… it wouldn’t be enough. He quietly started hyperventilating. What if they took Sammy? What if they took Sammy?! He bit and scratched to no avail, it just made the grip tighten and he nearly couldn’t breathe.

His captor began moving backwards, most likely towards one of the motel rooms. Dean did not like the things his mind came up with. No, he certainly did not. He might be 7 years old, but John had drilled it into him after mom died. “Do not talk to strangers outside of school, but even there you are only allowed to talk to people who work there as a teacher, they might take Sam away. Do not take candy from strangers, they might take Sam away. Do not leave Sam alone in the motel room, someone might get in there and kill him…” It went on and on, but Dean got the gist. Talking to strangers could lead to someone taking Sammy or killing Sammy, and Dean did not want that. Years later, he would reflect upon his supposedly loving father’s rules, and laugh sarcastically… because damn, what if something had happened to HIM.

He could barely make out the doors they were passing at the corner of his eye, but his eyes immediately focused when they saw movement in one of the windows. A man, correction, a well-groomed man was staring at him with eyes wide open in surprise, and Dean saw something fly over his face… disgust? Was he disgusted that Dean couldn’t hold his own against his anonymous captor? He probably was. Dean could never do anything right.

They had apparently reached the door, and the captor only needed to nudge it open, then Dean was dragged inside. He heard a door slam and felt his captor’s grip over his mouth tighten even more, if that even was possible. Dean’s sight was clouding up and he harshly closed his eyes before opening them again. He’s honestly surprised by the feel of something wet sliding down his cheeks. Was that tears?

Feet were slamming into the asphalt right outside the motel room and suddenly the well-groomed man stood in the doorway. He was staring threatening at Dean’s captor. “Let go of the boy.” Damn, his knight in shining armor was British… not that he needed a knight to save him… Who is he trying to kid? Of course he needs someone to save him, because he screwed things up and if Sammy got killed because of him…

Dean felt the captor’s hand move from his mouth and then, the well-groomed man was running towards them.  He ducked just as the well-groomed man knocked his captor to the floor, and hit him squarely in the face causing the captor to lose conscious.

When it was over Dean felt a whimper escape him and that drew the well-groomed man’s attention to him. He quickly got up and started towards him causing Dean to take a step back. The well-groomed man stopped. “I can assure you that I mean you no harm. I was simply going to ask if he harmed you in any way.” The sound of the man’s voice made Dean relax, and he couldn’t help but lean into the well-groomed man’s hand when it carefully lifted his chin to examine the growing bruise on his face.

“Are you a Doctor?” Dean couldn’t hold back a flinch when the question slipped out of his mouth. He was not supposed to talk to strangers, not even if they saved him. The well-groomed man gave him a smile, not like John’s strained ones whenever he looked at Dean, but like other adults looked at other kids, a real smile. It was so genuine that Dean started crying all over again, but he froze when the man put his arms around him like mommy used to do. He relaxed however when the man just drew assuring circles on his shoulders and Dean let his head rest on the well-groomed man’s shoulder.

“Are you alright? Is your father around?” Dean nodded and then shook his head, no. The well-groomed man examined him for a few seconds. “I would not be adverse to you staying in my motel room until your father came back.” Dean immediately shook his head frantically. Maybe this man was just another evil? Dean inwardly shook his head, no he couldn’t be. For some unexplainable reason Dean felt connected to the well-groomed man standing in front of him. He felt safe. It’s been a long time since he last felt safe, and that scared him even more.

“You know what? I can follow you back to your motel room. Does that sound better?” the well-groomed man asked kindly and Dean felt relief flow through him. He nodded.

– _flashback end_ –

Dean knew what would have happened that day if Henry Morgan hadn’t rushed to save him. He had later dug up some cold case files and had come across several about mutilated children being found buried behind motels. He could feel it in his bones that this was his almost-captor, because all the victims used to have blondish hair, green eyes and freckles, and they were all around the age of 6 to 9 when they were taken and killed. And another boy had been found buried behind a motel in the next town over, barely a day later.

Dean did not hold it against Henry Morgan that his almost-captor had managed to run off while Dean was being led back to his own motel room, back to Sammy, and he never would – especially not after spending 40 years in Hell being tortured. Henry Morgan had done what he thought was right. He had left a possible child rapist alive just to make sure that he, Dean, got back to his motel room unscathed. Dean would be forever grateful for the feeling he got when he got prioritized like that, like his wellbeing mattered, like someone cared. Dean was certain that the parents of the victims would disagree, but for Dean meeting Henry Morgan changed him. Changed him forever.


	4. Henry is not alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Abe sits down and talk, well Dean talks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The setting is mostly pre-Forever, but I will use stuff included in the show.  
> Season 4 for Supernatural, but Dean did not break in Hell so the Apocalypse was not jump-started.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Forever or Supernatural.
> 
> Okay, just so things are clear, this is set at the end of 2008.

Dean can’t say he’s surprised that when he got to Abe’s Antiques Abraham was waiting for him. As soon as Dean stepped into the shop Abraham walked past him and flipped the sign to closed, while locking the door. “I guess your father called you?” Dean asked softly, and was about to say something assuring when Abraham spoke. “If you even think of harming Henry, I… no one will find your body.” Dean sighs, if only he could have handled it better. Of course he could have handled it better, but he can’t exactly take it back now.

“I mean your father no harm. I actually wished to thank him for something he did for me years ago.” That seemed to put Abraham somewhat at ease. He stood back and let his gaze sweep over Dean resting on his face. He had a thoughtful expression on his face, and confusion shone from his eyes. 

“What do you wish to thank Henry for?” Abraham asked and started moving to the back of the shop. Dean sighed and followed him. Abraham led him to a pair of chairs and pointed to one for him to sit on while he himself sat on the other. Dean sat down. He let his elbows rest at his knees, his right hand brushed through his hair as he sighed tiredly. He suppressed a snort, he guessed he did that a lot nowadays, sighing and being tired in general. 

After Castiel saved him from Hell, he had realized that drinking the bad memories away was something he wouldn’t be able to do anymore. He had 40 years worth of memories of being tortured day after day, with no remorse, no mercy, nothing. They would strip him down to his bare bones, and he meant that literally, and then they would start all over again, his body fully healed. Sometimes they would repeat the same method several times in a row, other times they got more creative and changed methods after each session. He later found out that he was tortured to break, and fortunately that’s what he didn’t do, break that is. There’s no way that he will ever be able to forget any of it, and no matter how hard he had tried to drown his pain away with alcohol, it just didn’t go away. 

You wouldn’t be able to guess by looking at him that he had spent 40 years in Hell. Hell as in the pit, Satan’s kingdom or whatever you choose to call it. He looks like he’s about 27 years old, while he actually is 30. Time flows differently in Hell, for every month passing on Earth, 10 years have passed in Hell. On top of that, it was only his soul that was tortured. His physical body was buried six feet under on Earth. His memories of Before, before Lilith had her hellhounds drag him to Hell, had been kind of hazy, but when he started remembering there had been a lot of memories, other than memories of his brother, that had been associated with Henry Morgan. 

He now had most of his memories of Before back. One of the many reasons he was reaching out to Henry was those memories, memories of having died, and coming back from the dead surrounded by water. It had happened several times Before, it had been one of the reasons he hadn’t tried to help Sam, his brother, to break the deal, other than the fact that Sam would die if Dean broke the deal. Now Sam didn’t want anything to do with him. Not because Dean’s soul was rescued by Castiel the angel, but because Dean had implied that they could settle down and live an apple pie life. Have that white picket fence, 2.5 kids or whatever was considered normal. Sam had wanted that for God knows how long, so Dean didn’t really get why Sam reacted the way he did. He really didn’t get it.

He looked up at Abraham who sat patiently across from him, waiting for him to explain himself. He sighed again, this time pinching the bridge of his nose. There was so many ways to explain, so many different ways, but the truth was always the smartest choice, especially now.

“I died for the first time when I was 15, next thing I knew I was surrounded by water and I was naked. It continued happening. I died and then there were lots and lots of water. I tried researching it, but that was difficult considering my father, John, and brother, Sam, was around all the time and I couldn’t risk either of them finding out…”

“Researching immortality couldn’t be that bad …” Abraham said before Dean interrupted him. “You have to realize that for me; not being able to die meant that I was a monster and that if I told John, he would do everything in his power to make sure I stayed dead.” Abraham looked shocked, and Dean sighed. 

“Okay… Ghosts are real. Let’s start there. Vampires, demons, yeah… even angels. And for most of my life we hunted the supernatural. So to realize that I might be one of those creatures we hunted, it made me think. Think of all of those creatures that John had killed, made me kill. All of those creatures, and maybe, just maybe, there had been innocents among them. I was 4 turning 5 when John started hunting, and he taught me to look out for Sammy. As I got older he taught me that if it weren’t human, it was a monster and I had to kill it. It was very… black and white so to speak.” Dean paused and took a deep breath.

“I came across some files describing a patient by the name Henry Morgan and I remembered that when I was 7 a man by the name Henry Morgan had saved my life. I knew then that I most likely wouldn’t have actually died, but he had saved me and at the time and for years later that had powered me, and kept me going. From there I started finding more and more evidence that the Henry Morgan that saved me and the Henry Morgan the files described was one and the same. And then something happened earlier this year, that made me rethink everything I stood for, and I wanted out. I didn’t want to hunt anymore. John was already dead, and my brother never wanted to hunt at all. So I thought that he would be happy when I told him I wanted to retire, but he wasn’t. Basically Henry was the first person I thought of, and I know that it’s weird and out of nowhere, but I really don’t know where else I could have gone.” 

They were both silent for quite some time after that. “I think Henry would appreciate knowing that he isn’t alone. You could most likely stay with us. But we both work, so you’re going to need something to do.” Dean straightened his back and sighed. He was glad that Castiel, as Dean’s guardian angel, had taken the time to erase Dean and Sam’s criminal record, digitally, on paper and memory.

“I guess I could take some classes, and get into medical school or something? Other than that I can work part time as a mechanic? Earn my keep?” 

After that they both relaxed and talked, talked about how they should tell Henry and which classes Dean would have to take.


End file.
